


Music, Cars and Pizza, Of Course (With M&M's)

by StoriesofmyLife



Category: The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 02:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesofmyLife/pseuds/StoriesofmyLife
Summary: "Like a date?""No, not a date, just music, cars-""Will it include pizza?""Of course, pizza's a given.""With M&M's?'"Of course.""Well, then I'm in."A simple 'what if' Mia had realized her mistake of ditching Michael for Josh and that apology pizza came a little sooner.





	Music, Cars and Pizza, Of Course (With M&M's)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! It's been awhile, but I've recently become obsessed with the Princess Diaries, I watched the movie the other day and I started reading the books and I love Michael and Mia and I'm still bitter that the second movie didn't have Michael in it. I hope you guys enjoy, I might include more chapters later on, I may not, but for now I hope you enjoy this little 'what if' moment. :)

Mia fluttered nervously around her room, digging through her dressers, flipping through her closet, trying to find something, anything to wear that wouldn't make her look like an _asparagus_ like the current fashion _faux pas_ she was wearing. Which, she supposed, was a shame considering she always liked this top on her. Now, however, all she’d see when she looked at it was a gangly green vegetable.

Her mother was watching her, with thinly veiled amusement, from her position on the love seat, pretending to sketch. However, Mia hadn't heard the scratching of her pencil across the page of her sketch book in last fifteen minutes.

She pretended not to notice.

“I guess I’ll just wear my blue suit.” Mia sighed, digging said swim suit out from underneath a pile of clothes that had been flung haphazardly from her dresser not five minutes ago, in her haste to find something that didn’t remind her of one of the main food groups.

“Are you nervous about the beach party?” Her mother asked after a beat of silence.

Mia opened her mouth to answer, when her eyes landed on a picture taped to her dresser mirror. It was taken last year, at her fifteenth birthday party. Her mom had been away for the weekend, an art dealer that had just opened a new museum in LA had fallen in love with a line of her mother’s paintings and had begged her to come out for opening night of the new exhibit that now housed Helen’s paintings. Helen had initially refused, but Mia knew how much her mother’s art meant to her and after much persuading and an offer for Mia to stay at the Moscovitz’s for the weekend, Helen took the offered trip to LA, but not after promising Mia something special for her birthday.

Mia was just expecting a quiet weekend with Lilly, helping her edit her TV show or make flyers to plaster around school concerning her passion about a new cause. And when she got tired of that, she’d wander down to Michael’s room, and help him write a new song for his band or watch an old black and white film with him, the only person, beside her mother, who shared her affection for old films.

However, when she crossed over the threshold of the Moscovitz’s townhouse that Friday evening, she was greeted with streamers and balloons and a _‘Happy Birthday Mia!’_ banner strung across the fireplace in the living room. Lilly was standing next to a smirking Michael and had rushed over to give Mia a hug, guiding Mia further into the living room. The lights had been dimmed, music was playing from the state of the art stereo system and the kitchen had been transformed into a small buffet with a small birthday cake nestled in the middle amidst all the snacks and soda.

Michael had invited his band and Lilly had invited their friends from choir and Mia had found herself at a loss for words, incredibly touched by her friends kindness.

Lilly, who among her many other hobbies, dabbled in photography and had snapped a picture of Mia and Michael, nestled together on the couch while Michael was trying (without much success) to teach Mia how to play guitar. Neither one of them had been paying much attention to anyone, let alone a sleuthing Lilly armed with a camera. It was taken a few minutes before Michael had given Mia her birthday present, a silver chain bracelet with a dainty silver charm in the shape of a guitar pick on it. He said he’d found in the antique store next to the garage and when he’d saw it, he thought of her. Mia, incredibly touched, had never taken the bracelet off.

Lilly had given her a copy of the picture the week after and Mia had shifted a few pictures around on her dresser and it now hung proudly in the center of all of her photos, where she could see it every day. Usually, when she looked at Michael’s warm smile, the smile he always wore before he started that slow, deep laugh that only occurred when he was genuinely amused by something—and Mia attempting a G Chord on the guitar? Definitely cause for such laugher—filled her with such a warmth that sometimes, she forget that she was invisible.

Now, when she remembered the look of disappointment in Michael’s eyes when she told him she was going to the beach party with Josh instead of spending time with Michael on their _date that wasn't a date—_ with just music, cars and of course, pizza (with M&M’s) that was a complete given—she was filled with nothing but guilt.

Her mother cleared her throat and Mia remembered that her mother had asked her a question and usually, when one asks you a question, you generally have to respond with an answer.

“No,” She found herself saying, “I’m not nervous, more excited, I think.”

Mia bit her lip, smiling shyly at her mom, “I think I might actually get my first, real kiss tonight.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting in a way that made Mia suddenly nervous, “Oh? Who from?”

Mia shifted, her cheeks turning a bright red, “Josh Bryant.”

Her mother’s eyes hardened, narrowing into slits, “That Backstreet Boy clone who you’ve had a crush on forever?” she demanded, pursing her lips.

It was never a good sign, when Helen Thermopolis pursed her lips.

“He’s not a Backstreet Boy clone,” Mia sniffed defensively, “he’s a…a sailor.” she added lamely.

“I thought he was never nice to you.” Helen added, her eyes suddenly filling with concern. Mia shifted, suddenly very uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. Instead of meeting her mother’s eyes, she pretended to be looking for something amongst the mess on her dresser.

“Well, I don’t know, he is now.” Mia said softly, but the answer sounded weak, unsure, even to her own ears.

After Mia had floated back down from Cloud 9 and after Josh’s voice had faded from her mind, where it had been playing him asking her to the beach party on a constant loop, Mia’s insecurities had reared their ugly head. The truth was, Josh had _never_ been nice to her. He’d never even spared her a second glance before her whole Extreme Princess Makeover, unless it was to join in on the teasing that was often lead by his equally as snotty girlfriend, Lana.

So she had been curious where the sudden change of heart had come from, especially when just the day before, he’d been swapping spit with Lana and ignoring her very existence. She had wondered, for a brief moment, if all of this wasn't just some publicity stunt, to be linked with the newly discovered princess.

She had dismissed those thoughts, thinking that she was just being insecure, that it was okay Josh had a change of heart and that maybe, her little makeover had just made him realize what he’d been missing out all along.

Doubt, once again, filled her mind and eyeing the bracelet that Michael had given her that, for the first time she had been given it, was laying innocently in her jewelry box, the silver glinting in the fading after noon sun, she wondered, not for the first time in the last few days, if she was making the right choice.

“Mia? Honey, you better hurry up and change if you want to make it in time for your bus, Joe should be here in a few minutes to take you to school.”

Her mother’s voice brought Mia out of her thoughts and nodding absentmindedly, she hurried into the bathroom and changed into her blue bathing suit, that, once Mia had looked into the mirror to make sure she looked okay, deiced that it didn’t make her look like one of the major food groups.

It made her look like a Smurf.

~~~~~~~~~~

Josh, Mia had decided, was one of the most boring people she had ever met. 

She had been in his presence for all of an hour and the only topics of conversation Josh seemed to be well versed in was boating, hair gel and talking about his ex-girlfriend, Lana.

Mia was miserable, to say the least and had never wanted an evening to come to an end quicker more than this one. She didn’t think she could last another five minutes in his company, let alone anther three or four hours or until Josh decided he wanted to leave.

And to make matters worse, whenever Josh or one of his buddies cracked some lame joke, all she could picture was what Michael would say to such asinine  comments and thinking of Michael only made the guilt weigh heavier in her stomach. She wondered what he was doing right now, if he had continued with band practice, if he was working on her ‘Stang with all the concentration and careful preciseness he gave to his music or if he was at home, writing or watching a movie.

Or maybe, he found someone else to spend his Saturday night with, maybe the pretty blonde band groupie that was always hanging around the garage, flirting with Michael in between songs or cornering him after practice, when he’d start to work on her ‘Stang.

The thought made Mia hurt in a way that she had never felt before. Her heart physically ached at the thought of Michael being with someone else, of sharing his new music with somebody else. That had always been _their_ thing and the thought of it not being _their_ thing anymore, made tears spring to her eyes and her guilt worsen.

And it was in that moment, when she was slow dancing on a beach, underneath the moon light with sound of the waves crashing in the distance with _Josh Bryant,_ something she’d only dreamed of doing for the last _year,_ that she was with the _wrong guy._

The thought made her stop so suddenly that Josh ended up stepping on her foot, but she didn’t even feel it. Her sudden stop interrupted Josh’s story of Lana and the first Christmas they had spent together and while it was such a riveting story, it was one Mia didn’t care to stick around for.

“Mia? What—“

“I have to go.” Mia said abruptly and that was all the explanation she gave a rather confused and annoyed Josh Bryant before she made a mad dash to her bag, digging through her belongings until she found the slim silver cellphone that Joe had given her before letting her board the bus.

“I don’t trust this over-gelled Backstreet Boy clone,” he explained gruffly when he handed it to her.

Mia, too stunned that Joe even knew who the Backstreet Boys were, didn’t even protest when he pressed it into her hand and through her shock, she heard him tell her to press one and it would dial his number and to call him if she needed him.

Pressing one, the phone automatically dialed Joe’s number and he answered on the first ring.

“Joe? It’s Mia, can you pick me up? There’s some place I need to be.”

~~~~~

Mia shifted nervously outside Doc’s garage, the warm pizza box tipping precariously in her grasp and with quick reflexes she didn’t know she possessed, she saved her peace offering/apology pizza from becoming a new welcome mat. 

The bay doors were closed, which she expected this late at night and if it wasn’t for the faint guitar strumming she could hear coming from the inside, she would've thought that no one was here.

She knocked on the metal doors and cringed at the loud sound breaking the silence of the neighborhood around her. When the clanging died down, she could hear a pause in the guitar strumming and a beat of silence, then the metal door rose slowly, squeaking loudly on the tracks and if it wasn't for the pizza box in Mia’s hand, she would've covered her ears.

They stopped about half way, enough for someone to duck under and Mia didn’t have enough time to work herself up into a proper panic before a familiar head of dark hair popped out from underneath the door and then Michael was standing in front of her, arms crossed and unwavering stare in place.

“Hi,” Mia said, giving him a small, unsure smile.

Michael didn’t reply, so Mia took that as a sign to continue.

“Look, I’m probably the last person you wanna see right now,” she began quietly, “but I came here to apologize for choosing to go to the beach party with Josh instead of being here, with you,” she looked down at the pizza box, suddenly feeling very exposed underneath Michael’s gaze, “Josh is, well, Josh is a total idiot and the shallow end of a kiddie pool has more depth than he does and it wasn't until after his sixth story about Lana, that I realized that I had made a mistake. If I’m being honest, I knew I made a mistake the minute I accepted his offer. I got so caught up in the fact that Josh Bryant wanted to take me on a date, that Josh Bryant might want to kiss me—“

Had Mia paid attention, she would've noticed the way Michael’s jaw clenched at the latter admission, but she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the pizza in her hands.

“—and I chose to ignore the fact that up until two days ago, the only reason Josh Bryant even knew I existed was because his girlfriend loves to make me the butt end of her jokes.” Mia scoffed, rolling her eyes, but Michael didn’t miss the hurt in her voice and not for the first time, anger rose at the thought of anyone teasing her.

“I know I hurt you,” Mia said, risking a glance up at him from underneath her lashes, “but I’m hoping, that even though I showed up late and it took me longer than it should have, your offer for music, cars and pizza still stands,” glancing down at her still full hands, she offered the pizza box out to Michael, “I brought the pizza.” she said lamely, giving him a sheepish smile.

“You forgot the M&M’s.” He said after a minute of silence, before turning and ducking underneath the garage door.

Mia’s shoulders sagged in relief and she waved Joe away, who was waiting patiently by the limo and with a simple nod, he got into the driver’s seat and drove away, but not before Mia caught the little smile on his face.

Mia took Michael’s statement as an offer for her to follow him and being very, _very_ careful, she ducked underneath the garage doors and offered the pizza to a waiting Micael, who set the pizza on an oil drum so he could close the bay doors with a loud clang that made Mia jump.

“Sorry,” he said, giving her an apologetic smile before he grabbed the pizza and made his way over to one of the couches where he set up camp, his acoustic guitar leaning up against the couch and an open notebook laying out on the coffee table. He closed it before she could see what was in it, shoving it off to the side before setting the pizza down where his notebook had been.

He opened the box and huffed out a laugh at the _Sorry_ that was written out on top of the otherwise plain cheese pizza in different colored M&M’s.

“I didn’t forget.” Mia said softly, giving him a small smile.

Michael smiled back, shaking his head, “You’re something else, Thermopolis.”

Mia flushed bright red, but there was no denying the small smile on her lips or the flutter her heart gave when he gave her a smile like that.

Michael managed to scrounge up some paper plates and napkins and, after snagging a couple of sodas out of the fridge Doc kept just outside of his office for his employees, he sat back down on the couch next to Mia. He offered her one of the sodas and a plate, which she accepted with a grateful smile. She didn’t hesitate to open up the pizza box and after a few seconds of deliberation on what slice she wanted, Michael watching in fond amusement, she picked one and took a bite, not even bothering to scrape off the M&M’s, she was that hungry.

“What, Josh didn’t feed you?” Michael asked, picking his own piece and taking a bite. The question came out innocent enough, but Mia could hear the mocking underneath the attempted casualness of his tone.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, setting her slice of pizza down on her plate, shaking her head, she said, “No, um, I took the bus with everyone else and I wasn’t there long enough to hit the snack table.”

Michael _hmm’d_ , chewing his pizza thoughtfully, but didn’t add anything else to the conversation.

They sat in silence and Mia couldn't help but feel a little awkward. She wasn’t sure if Michael had completely forgiven her yet and if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't sure if he would. And Mia could understand, really, if she was in his shoes and Michael had canceled their date _that wasn’t a date,_ to hang out with someone else, she’d be a little hurt too.

_He deserves better_ , she thought to herself.

Because, if Mia was also being honest with herself, she had always cared about Michael a little more than just a ‘he’s-my-best-friends-older-brother-so-by-extention-I-have-to-care-about-him’ sort of way. She’d known Michael as long as she’d known Lilly and while Mia loved Lilly dearly—really, she did, there wasn't a thing on this earth Mia wouldn’t do for her best friend—she could be a bit, well, _much_ sometimes. Lilly was Mia’s opposite in every way and sometimes, Lilly could be a bit harsh with her criticism of Mia. Mia knew that she meant well, she was always trying to protect Mia from the cruelty of some of their classmates and encourage her to stand up to other people and not be so concerned about what other people think of her. But still, sometimes, her critiques _hurt._

And Michael, bless him, never hesitated to come to Mia’s defense where Lilly was concerned. Michael was a lot like Mia, quiet and reserved and it wasn’t unusual for Michael to stay locked up in his room all day, working on his music or reading or down in the Moscovitzs’ garage, music blasting and tinkering around with his parent’s cars.  When Lilly got too much to handle, Mia wouldn't hesitate to wander down to the garage and hangout with Michael. Michael, quiet and reserved Michael, had a way of making shy, awkward Mia, open up and feel _normal,_ for once in her life. He never rolled his eyes in annoyance when Mia went off on one of her rants when she got excited over a new book she’d read or a new movie she’d watched with her mother. They shared common interests in music and books and movies and Michael always had this way of making her laugh, with his quick wit and dry and sarcastic remarks that could render even Lilly speechless. He always exuded a calm and collected demeanor and it always soothed Mia’s often frazzled nerves and one look or one smile from him and it could make Mia forget about whatever hurtful remark one of her fellow classmates said about her.

He’s always been more than just her best friend’s older brother to her and maybe it was selfish, knowing she’d hurt him so badly, but she didn’t want to lose him.

“I can practically hear you thinking from over here, princess,” Michael said, his tone teasing. She looked up from her pizza—which other than the one bite she’d taken almost ten minutes prior, had remained untouched—to see Michael gazing at her from underneath his dark fringe. Behind the teasing, she could see genuine concern swimming in those unfathomably dark brown eyes. After all she had done to him, he was concerned about her.

_Her_

_He really, really deserves better._

“Michael, I—“She started, but stopped. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but looking down at her pizza, she suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Didn’t you promise me music?” Mia asked instead, standing up so abruptly she almost knocked over her soda and if it wasn't for Michael’s quick reflexes, it would've ended up all over the half eaten pizza. She blushed bright red, hurrying over to the stereo system in the corner of the room, flipping through the stacks of CD’s Doc’s had to offer. She chose a CD at random and put it in the CD player, the _Red Hot Chilli Peppers_ filling the silent garage. She pretended to be engrossed in the back of _Def Leppard’s Greatest Hits_ album when she heard Michael get up from the couch and make his way over to her.

He plucked the CD out of her hands, setting it down on the table where the other ones were scattered, ignoring Mia’s protest.

“You hate Def Leppard.” He said in response to her protests, leaning casually against the table, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You don’t know that.” Mia sniffed, picking the CD back up.

Michael rolled his eyes, taking it away from her, again, “I do, because every time Felix puts this CD in when you’re here, you scrunch your nose up and start rubbing your temples, like you have a headache.”

“And here I thought you were supposed to be working on my car, not studying me.” Mia quipped, giving him a teasing smile.

If Mia didn’t know any better, she would've swore Michael’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, but it was hard to tell in the shadowed lighting of the garage.

“Speaking of your car, I uh, finished it for you.” Michael said, changing the subject, pushing himself off of the table and walking over to where her ‘Stang was parked. Mia followed, excitement building in her stomach at the  thought of driving the beautiful car her mother had worked so hard to get for her. Two of her best paintings, which Mia knew she could sell for a pretty penny, had been traded in order for Mia to have the car of dreams.

Michael lifted the hood and began explaining what all he’d done, things Mia had absolutely no grasp or concept of, but she listened with rapt attention, following his finger as he pointed out each section of the car that had been either rebuilt, repaired or tweaked in order for her car to purr like Fat Louie when you scratched at a spot just behind his ears.

She was at a loss for words and once again, she was struck by just how _perfect_ Michael Moscovitz was. And how stupid she was not realize it sooner.

“—and when I test drove it, I noticed it was slipping a bit in third, so I had to take the transmission out and dig around with a flash light in order to find what was wrong and it turns out it was just something loose—“

He glanced up during his explanation, dark eyes glittering with pride and excitement and that’s when Mia knew. Like really _knew._

She was in love with Michael Moscovitz.

And it was there, in the middle of Doc’s garage, bent under the hood of her ‘Stang, that she kissed Michael Moscovitz.

_The guy she loved_

It didn’t last longer than five seconds, maybe, but in those five seconds, she felt it. The warmth of his lips, slightly chapped from biting them when he was really concentrating, the stubble on his cheek from not shaving recently and the way her heart fluttered at all of these sensations hitting her at once.

She pulled away, looking anywhere _but_ at him, surprised at her actions and mortified that she practically _assaulted_ him, because her actions couldn’t of been wanted. This was Michael, Lilly’s _older brother, her best friend._

_SHE JUST KISSED HER BEST FRIEND’S OLDER BROTH—_

“Mia.” Michael breathed, bringing her out of her momentary panic and when she glanced up at him shyly, he simply stared at her, dumbfounded before his expression melted into something else. His eyes, dark with something Mia couldn't name, glanced down to her lips and before Mia could even blink, let alone _think,_ Michael was kissing her.

Kissing.

_Her._

His lips were warm and pressed firmly to hers, his hands coming up to cradle her cheeks, tilting her head slightly to the left and _oh._ Gently, his lips began to move against hers, encouraging Mia to follow his lead and she did, chasing his lips with a fervor that warmed her from the inside out. Fireworks exploded behind her eyelids, igniting a heat that settled low in her belly, her cheeks flushing and just like in the old movies, she felt her foot slowly rise and this was it, her _first_ , _real, foot popping kiss._

Michael pulled away slowly, thumbs brushing against her cheeks and when Mia opened her eyes, slightly dazed, Michael was staring down at her with a look of wonder on his face, that if her cheeks could, they’d be flushing redder than they already were.

“Why me?” he murmured, brushing back a stray tendril of her newly straightened hair, tucking it behind her ear.

There were so many ways she could answer that question, but none of them felt right. This was Michael, who she’d known forever, who stood up for her against his own sister when she thought she was out of line, who helped Mia forget about her tormentors with a well timed joke, who let her escape his sister wrath and hang out in his room or the garage with him, who took time out of his day, every day, to get her dream car running for her. Michael, who never treated her any differently after the whole princess thing came to light. Michael, who cared about her, even when she was just plain old Mia, with frizzy curls and glasses and clumsy beyond belief.

“Because you saw me when I was invisible.” She answered softly, truthfully.

“You’re the only one who hasn't treated me any differently because of the whole princess thing. You liked me before the hair and the makeup and the contacts, before I was, well, y’know, pretty.”

“You’ve always been pretty.” Michael whispered, dark eyes earnest.

Mia blushed, looking down at Michael’s t-shirt, playing absentmindedly with a loose thread.

“I know this whole princess thing is intimidating,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “but it doesn't have to change anything. I’m still clumsy and awkward Mia. I’m still _me._ Except, now I have balls to attend and a country to rule.”

Michael smiled, “Josh looks better in a tux, maybe you should reconsider before it’s took late.”

Mia shook her head, giving him a soft smile, “I don’t know, I think my boyfriend might have an issue with that.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Michael asked, raising a teasing eyebrow.

Mia’s cheeks went up in flames, “Is that okay?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Michael murmured, his dark eyes flickering over her face, settling on her lips, “will there be pizza at these balls?”

Mia smiled, “Of course, pizza’s a given.”

Michael grinned back, pulling her closer to him so she was cradled in his arms, “Then I guess you have yourself a date, princess.”

And he sealed it with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this, let me know if you want more and or if you might have an idea for another story! Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
